Birthday Dolls
by Tsukika
Summary: Kankurou reflects on a past birthday and his relationship with his brother. Happy belated birthday Kankurou! 5/15 This is part of a series I'm chipping away at.


I don't own the rights to Naruto as it is not my brain-child.

Birthday Dolls

Kankurou (May 15)

Smiles888

A seventeen-year-old Kankurou growled irritably, pushing his sweat soaked bangs back off of his forehead. His hand left a dirty trail, the dust on it smearing with the absent gesture. The attic of the Kazekage's mansion was hot, far worse than Konoha's lethargy inducing humidity. He cursed.

Gaara had _ordered_ him to hunt down their mother's wedding dress and ring. His brother apparently suspected that their sister was dating someone seriously. It probably had to do more with Kakurou having over worked himself over the last week or so. With a tired huff the blonde jounin plopped down on an old wooden stool. Said stool creaked and groaned before completely collapsing under him. Yelping in surprise, Kankurou toppled backwards and into the boxes behind him.

The stack wobbled precariously, and Kankurou was reminded of a few cartoons he'd watched as a child, as he stared wide-eyed, hoping they wouldn't tumble onto him. Only one fell. It landed on his head and had it been any bigger it would have done some serious damage. He rubbed his new bump and glared at the box.

It was a small shoebox, probably from when they had been children. The strange thing was that "to: Kankurou" had been scrawled messily onto the top in a child's handwriting. Frowning, he lifted the lid. A birthday card lay unopened on top but when that had been lifted away it revealed two small familiar puppets. Hiroto and Hiromi. The first puppets he had ever owned. Kankurou drifted into his memories, back to a time when fear and hatred had been prominent in his life.

Gaara hadn't turned four yet, and Kankurou was enjoying his seventh birthday. Temari always cut back on the bossiness on his birthday, just like he didn't tease her on hers. Gaara wouldn't bother him as he had taken to following their uncle around like a lost puppy.

Kankurou had found the box sitting on his bed when he returned from breakfast. Curiously he had lifted the lid to peer inside. Glancing to make sure no one was around he had tossed the card aside and dug right into his present.

Earlier that year a storyteller had come to town. The man had used puppets and Kankurou had fallen in love with the art of puppetry. Unfortunately his allowance wasn't big enough for him to buy one so he had been saving up. Thus he was understandably excited to see the two puppets cradled together in the small shoebox. When he had examined them closer he realized that they had been made of compressed sand, not clay. There was only one person capable of such a feat, his crazy, bloodthirsty little brother. That was when he had noticed the writing on the bottom of the box. Gomen nasai, aniki. I am sorry, brother.

Kankurou really wanted the puppets. But at the same time, he didn't trust anything that came from his monster of a younger brother. In the end he decided to keep them. However, whenever anyone asked who had given them to him he had refused to answer. The card was left unopened in the box. Untouched, until he had grown to old for them and packed the puppets away with care.

Kankurou sighed at the many foolish things he'd done as a child, before turning the card over in his hand. Its envelope was blue, his name had been scrawled onto the back and the seal had been poorly adhered. Suntanned fingertips slid under the flap and gently opened the envelope.

Inside was a homemade card; the front was decorated in colorful scribbles that somewhat resembled a clown. Kankurou smiled, but quickly stopped and made sure no one was around to have seen it. Yashamaru's feminine handwriting made neat little rows on the inside, as he had transcribed Gaara's wishes that'd Kankurou would have a happy birthday and asking him to play with him. "Gaara" was signed by a child's hand in hiragana at the bottom.

It hurt him that no one had ever really seen the adorable child his brother had been. Everyone had been so afraid of him that they didn't look beyond Shubaku. Some still didn't see the strong kazekage for what he was. Kankurou was ashamed to have been one of those people, having never really seen Gaara until after Naruto had beaten some sense into his brother. Their family life had suffered when it had been so divided, it could never really heal either, causing them have an unusual sibling relationship.

Kankurou sighed, looking down at the two fragile forms. Carefully he placed the card inside the box and carried it down stairs. His padded footsteps carried him into the living room. Where he paused to think. The jounin's eyes scanned the bare room before resting on the bare mantle.

Gaara silently entered his home, the sunset painted on the sky behind him. Quietly he set his keys in the basket by the door and shrugged off the light jacket he wore to fight off the cool desert night air. He left the gourd by the front door, flipping the cork up in the air just like he does every night. And, just like every other night the redhead made his way to the kitchen down the hall, a trail of sand slithering along behind him.

He stops just outside of the living room thresh-hold, perceiving a change somewhere from the corner of his eye. His stiff vest collar rustled silently as he turns his head to scan the room's interior. His aqua colored eyes quickly rest on the mantle and the two crude puppets hung above it. Their hands are hooked together and their heads lean forward to meet gently above the clasped hands. Resting on the wood mantle itself is piece of paper folded once to stand up. Scrawled messily in Kankurou's chicken scratch are two words: _THANK YOU_

Gaara's lips twitch into the barest of smiles and an observer may notice the smallest softening of his eyes. Outside a coyote howls to the moon and in a flash the look is gone and the stoic kazekage is continuing on down the hall to make himself dinner. "Happy Birthday, brother" echoes softly into the empty room and silvery moonlight before vanishing quietly from existence.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY KANKUROU!


End file.
